


Bright and Inconspicuous

by mresundance



Series: Things We Said [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Romantic but Ambivalent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-24 21:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4935334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were conjoined now; words, and thoughts, and feelings, all shivered and sang between them like harp-strings. Even if Hannibal wasn't meant to hear what Will said, he knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright and Inconspicuous

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt: things you said that i wasn’t meant to hear
> 
> [Originally posted here.](http://mresundance.tumblr.com/post/130515873812/20-hannigram-please-3)

Will didn't have to say any of it, for Hannibal to know it. They were conjoined now; words, and thoughts, and feelings, all shivered and sang between them like harp-strings. Even if Hannibal wasn't meant to hear what Will said, he knew.

The tight little coil of red wrapped round the base of the new lure -- which would never be used -- spoke of rage and longing. The feathered tufts were golden as Molly's hair. The curve of the hook clean and simple as Walter's embraces.

The scarf itself was not ornate, or gaudy. Just a simple, tri-colored piece Will bought in Warsaw. But the orange laughed, the way Molly had after the first time they'd made love. The blue was her constancy and warmth on the night he told her about Hannibal, and just how intimate his relationship with Hannibal was. The gray was those silent, sweet years he had just to himself. Just with Molly, and Walter, and the dogs.

The leather shoes from Pisa, well, Will didn't have to say he was miserable in them. He waddled as if his adductors burned. Just as was miserable in those first months, after their long tumble off the cliff, and their escape to Europe. Miserable and heartsick for home, for rivers and trout, for musky Virginia air, and his dogs loping along after him. He was miserable for so long Hannibal worried he wouldn't stop, but then one day Will went traipsing through the Tuscan hillsides as rain poured down. He returned muddied, his shoes filthy and scuffed and finally,  _finally_ broken in, and while he shed his sodden, dirty clothes, they didn't really have to say, or explain -- this was it. This was  _a_  moment, after that dive off the cliff. Their lips and then their bodies came together so easily, cleaved so naturally, when they were done they both laughed in surprise and pleasure. It felt as though sex was not new between them; they'd been kissing, and touching, and sharing such intimacies the entire time they'd known each other. It felt odd to think that they hadn't before that day.

The cologne from Munich, heady as absinthe, was simple:  _pretend that I am yours._ Will wore in the evenings, when they went out for dinner, and Hannibal showed him off to anyone and everyone. Will wore anything Hannibal desired. He smoldered and fawned at Hannibal by turns. He ate slowly, decadently, sucking spices and sauces from his lips, tempting Hannibal with visions of what he'd do to him later, in the dark of their hotel room, Will on his knees, mouthing the head of Hannibal's cock, his fingers lightly pressed to his entrance while making Hannibal  _beg._

There was another scent, the soap from Scotland, which Will bought for a few pounds from a local. This one was cucumber and salt, vulnerable and soft as Will's body when Hannibal woke up in the mornings. It was uneasy too; the way Hannibal caught Will staring out of windows and gazing at something Hannibal couldn't see. They way Will looked at Hannibal with bewilderment.  _Who is this man?_  Will's expression asked.  _What am I doing here, with him?_  

And then the ring. It was a simple, simple thing, a mere sliver of silver. It shone bright as a star, and just as inconspicuous. Stars, in the context of the entire universe, were barely noticeable, just as plain, wire-thin wedding bands would hardly provoke interest.  Will had objected to them being so thin.

"It's hardly more than a thread. It will break," he said, as he slid the ring on his finger.

"Maybe," Hannibal said. "Maybe that is the tenuousness of any relationship. Of life itself."

Will looked at him, and then the ring, and then at Hannibal again, and sighed. He sighed with all the frustration and desire and ambivalence and love and fear and joy in his heart.

And he hadn't taken the band off, even for an hour, ever since.


End file.
